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“But …?” Saxon urged gently.
“But, frankly, I don’t trust him. He hovers about me every moment he can, asking personal questions about my background, my association with Nick Aldridge, my training. He spends far less time with the horses than he does with me.”
“You’d like me to keep an eye on him?”
“I’d like you to prove me wrong. But, given the fact that there might be an informant right here at Tyreham, I don’t think we can afford to overlook anything—or anyone.”
“Consider it done. And Miss Aldridge—pardon me, Mr. Stoddard,” Saxon corrected himself purposefully. “It goes without saying that this entire conversation will remain confidential. Moreover, while I realize that your decision to tell me the truth wasn’t an easy one to make, rest assured, you did the right thing. Your candor will enable me to keep all the residents of Tyreham safe and assist me in solving these crimes and restoring order to the turf.”
“I’m counting on that, sir.”
Dustin’s bedchamber door opened on the heels of Nicole’s first knock.
“Are you all right?” she demanded.
“At last.” He drew her in, shutting and bolting the door behind her. “I’ve asked that we not be disturbed.”
“What?” Nicole’s baffled gaze moved from Dustin’s face to his silk dressing robe. The deep vee at his chest revealed the bandage across his ribs was still in place, but much of the swelling on his face had receded, and his motions were far less stiff than earlier that day. “Poole said you were too weak to come down, that you’d requested I visit you in your chambers.”
“I did.”
Nicole’s brows rose as he drew her against him, his palms smoothing over her shoulders and back. “You don’t seem terribly weak to me. In fact, you seem much stronger than before.”
“I am.” His smile made her bones melt. “I fabricated the part about being weak. I wanted you up here.” He bent, his lips brushing the side of her neck.
A quiver of pleasure ran through her. “Don’t you want to hear about my conversation with Saxon?” she murmured. “Aren’t you going to tell me what he found out from following Archer and Parrish?”
“Later.” Dustin hooked an insistent forefinger beneath her chin. “Kiss me.”
“Dustin …”
“Kiss me.” He covered her lips with his, wincing a bit as his bruised mouth protested the pressure.
“You’re going to aggravate your injuries.” Tenderly, she stroked his jaw, eased away. “We should talk.”
“You’re right, we should, but not about Saxon.” With that, Dustin scooped her up—ignoring the twinges of pain that resulted—and made his way across the room. Reaching the cushioned armchair, he seated himself, Nicole settled comfortably on his lap. “There.”
She blinked. “There … what?”
“There—you’re not budging and we’re not digressing until we’ve had our discussion. And I don’t mean about the crimes of the turf.”
Nicole leaned back, regarding him from beneath the brim of her cap. “You really mean that.”
“I really mean that. It’s time we talked about us—about our future. We’ve waited too long already.” Dustin angled her face to his, his midnight eyes dark with emotion. “Nicole, when you left me this afternoon and that brandy took effect, I slipped into a kind of half slumber. Do you know what I dreamed?”
Mutely, she shook her head.
“I dreamed you were carrying my child.”
“Oh God.” Nicole began to tremble. “I hadn’t even considered …” She swallowed. “I was so preoccupied with my own feelings, I never even pondered the fact that I might be …”
“Does the possibility upset you?”
Two tears slid down her cheeks. “No,” she whispered with aching candor. “It doesn’t.”
He kissed the tracks of her tears. “Shall I tell you how it makes me feel? Ecstatic. Elated. Awed and humbled all at once.” His lips sought hers, brushing once, twice, feathering over her cheeks and nose, returning to her mouth in a whisper of a caress. “Tell me, darling,” he breathed into her parted lips, “what events can I change, wrongs can I right, inequities can I balance? Tell me and I’ll make them happen.”
Forever, Nicole wanted to shout. I want forever—and all that goes with it.
